


Sherlock and the Case of the Missing Hedgehog

by BluebeardsWife



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/F, Gen, Genderbending, femme!lock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-11-13 01:35:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluebeardsWife/pseuds/BluebeardsWife
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On her first day in a new school, Joan Watson meets (female) Sherlock Holmes, and they investigate the disappearance of the school mascot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Joan Watson.” Principal Lestrade looked at her over the top of her square glasses. Georgia Lestrade was good at her job. She had been doing it for over a decade. The kids came and went, however, and just as soon as she made progress with one batch, they were replaced by a new crowd of defiant hooligans. Joan sat in the chair opposite hers, her mousy-blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. She adjusted a loose strand behind her ear. Rather short and of average build, Joan didn’t look the type to cause trouble. She was certainly smaller than her opponents during lunch break. But there was no denying that she had started the fight. 

Joan held Principal Lestrade’s gaze silently. 

“First day at a new school. Has to be a challenge.” Principal Lestrade tried again. Joan shrugged, licking her lips nervously.  
“Why did you punch Sal Donovan in the face?” Lestrade tried a more direct approach.

“He made fun of a girl for being a lesbian.” Joan said defiantly, raising her eyebrows, as though daring the principal to say something against lesbians as well. 

“Oh?” 

Joan just nodded and shrugged again. 

“Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to put you in detention. “ said principal Lestrade. Violence is never the answer. What Sal said was certainly wrong, but it does not give you the right to punch him. Do you understand?”

Joan nodded. 

“Alright, Mr. Hudson will be overseeing detention today. Room B221. You’re to stay until 5. I’ve already called your parents.” 

Another nod. 

“Off you go,” Principal Lestrade sighed. This job wasn’t getting any easier. 

***

Room B221 was empty but for the lanky, pale girl with short black hair, who had been the object of ridicule earlier at lunch. She was scribbling furiously in her notebook, the tip of her tongue poking out in concentration. She made no sign of acknowledging Joan’s presence.  
“Excuse me.” Joan said. “Where is the teacher, Mr. Hudson?”  
The pale girl lifted brilliant blue-green eyes in her direction. “Gone.”  
Joan waited for a moment, but when no information came, she ventured on. “Gone where? Isn’t he supposed to supervise us?”

“Well,” the girl dropped her pen and stood up, leaning against the desk. “He said he was going to take some aspirin for his hip, but he actually snuck out behind the gym for a smoke. Judging from the fact that he had his flask with him, I assume he will be staying for at least two cigarettes. More likely three. When he comes back, he will fall asleep at his desk. Usually does. You must be Joan Watson, the new kid.” 

She didn’t seem to need to stop for breath, and kept rattling off information like a computer. 

“Aggressive. Switching schools mid-year. Probably got kicked out for fighting at your old school. Already in trouble here, I see. Why? Why would you pick a fight with Sal Donovan? Not that I don’t think about punching him all the time, but he is bigger than you. Obviously stronger. So he must have said something personal. Except he was talking about me, I heard him call me a lesbian. Sister? Did she come out recently? Is that why you fought at your old school?” She gave Joan a half-smile and bit her bottom lip. 

“How did you --?” Joan stared at the taller girl incredulously. “Did you just figure all that out? That’s brilliant!”

“It is your sister then?”

“No.” Joan smiled. “Brother.” 

Sherlock’s face scrunched up for a moment.

“Damnit,” she said, sitting back down and continuing to write in her notebook, though not as intently as before. 

“Are you?” Joan asked awkwardly. “Not that it matters.” She added quickly.  
“Am I what?” Sherlock said without looking up.  
“A lesbian.”  
“Mmmm… not really my area.” She said. 

The door opened, and Mr. Hudson straggled in, carrying a distinct whiff of peppermint with him. “Oh Sherlock, you’ve made a friend, how nice. But I really need you both to sit quietly for the rest of detention.” He settled comfortably into the chair in the front of the room and picked up the newspaper. 

As Sherlock predicted, Mr. Hudson was asleep within a few minutes. Joan found herself suddenly excited at the prospect of making friends with this, undoubtedly strange, girl. “Why are you here?” she whispered nervously.  
“They think I killed Howard.” Sherlock replied with a wave of her hand. Then, noticing the perplexed expression on Joan’s face, she added, “The school mascot. Howard the Hedgehog.” 

“I didn’t!” she continued when Joan raised her eyebrows at Sherlock. “I mean, yes, I’ve done a few experiments on him, but I have never hurt him. I’m very careful. Jill Moriarty framed me.” She scowled. 

Joan waited for a few moments, but Sherlock was once again engrossed in her erratic scribble in her notebook, and Joan allowed herself to space out until 5 o’clock.


	2. Chapter 2

Mr. Hudson snorted and looked around wildly for a moment before he realized where he was. His cell phone alarm had gone off at 5, and he pretended not to notice the smirks on his students’ faces.   
“5 o’clock. Off you go!” He said gruffly, folding his newspaper and collecting his papers into a small brown briefcase. 

Sherlock was out the door before he even looked up, while Joan collected the homework she had been pretending to work on slowly. As she walked through the door of B221, however, she almost ran directly into Sherlock, who was standing there, waiting for her.   
“Want to see something cool?” Sherlock said, a slightly mad gleam in her eye.  
“Always.” Joan grinned.   
“Excellent. Follow me.” And Sherlock sped off down the corridor, Joan following at her heels. The taller girl, dressed in black tights, a short black skirt, and a purple top, was full of energy, and Joan, wearing a striped sweater-dress over leggings, had to take two steps for every one of Sherlock’s long-legged strides.   
They rounded the corner and slipped into a large classroom with several big tables, all containing Bunsen burners and lab equipment. Chemistry classroom, Joan assumed. Sherlock opened up her book bag and pulled out what looked like a torn piece of a white tablecloth, except it was stained with red patches that disturbingly resembled blood.

“They had me clean up the crime scene as punishment.” Sherlock informed Joan. “So I took some evidence with me. I’ve always wanted to do an Ouchterlony test, but never had a reason for it.” She smiled deviously, placing the blood-stained cloth into a beaker containing a clear liquid. She continued fussing with two Petri-dishes, making small holes in the solidified material in the dish, mixing liquids from different vials, adding drops of it here and there. Joan was fascinated and completely clueless as to what was going on. She had an interest in science, even wanted to become a doctor some day, but whatever Sherlock was doing was well beyond her reach. Finally, Sherlock seemed satisfied.  
“We have to stash this somewhere until tomorrow before I can analyze the results.”   
“What exactly are we analyzing?” Joan asked.  
“I don’t think Howard is dead.” Sherlock replied.   
That didn’t exactly clarify anything, but Joan didn’t know what else to say, so she kept quiet while Sherlock carefully placed the Petri dishes behind some lab equipment on the shelf above the counters. 

“I’m in detention again tomorrow,” Sherlock said. “But we’ll check the results afterwards.”   
“We?” Joan asked.   
Sherlock grinned. “Do you have something better to do?”   
“I don’t suppose so.” Joan frowned. To be fair, she was quite relieved to have made this strange new friend. 

***

The next day, time seemed to move at an unbearably slow pace. Joan kept checking the clock above the blackboard, only to discover that the long minute hand had barely moved since the last time she had looked at it. She wondered if she was stuck in purgatory. Ms. Gregson was droning on about trigonometric functions and proofs, writing complicated formulas on the board, completely unaware that not a single person was listening. Joan had just begun zoning out again, when a wad of crumpled up paper hit her on the head. She turned to see where it came from and was met with the dark eyes of a short and skinny girl with beautiful, long, brown locks and pouty, bright red lips. Joan had noticed the brunette before, mostly as the star student and every teacher’s pet. Jill was her name. Jill mockingly blew a kiss at Joan before returning to her apparent note-taking. Slowly, Joan unfolded the piece of paper that now lay on her desk. It was a remarkably good drawing – in full color – of a disemboweled hedgehog, signed JM. 

Time moved even slower after this incident, but finally the bell rang. Joan wondered if anyone had ever been as excited about detention as she was that day. She tried not to let the excitement show, as she slowly gathered up her belongings and was among the last to leave the classroom. In the hall, her eyes met the dark brown eyes of Jill Moriarty yet again. Jill smirked and looked away, continuing to talk to a tall, dark-haired boy. The boy turned to look at Joan, and for a brief moment, Joan could feel blood rising up in her face at the sight of his angular jaw and piercing green eyes. She hurried away to room B221. 

Sherlock was already sitting in her usual spot, completely absorbed in the illegible diagrams she was scribbling into her notebook. Joan suddenly felt very awkward, and sat quietly next to her strange friend.   
“The question is,” Sherlock said as though continuing an ongoing conversation. “How did she unlock the cage?”   
“The… the hedgehog’s cage?” Joan wondered tentatively.  
“Obviously.” Sherlock seemed annoyed. “She already knows we’re onto her. We have to act quickly.”   
Mr. Hudson entered the door and cleared his throat. “Ahem. There will be no talking please,” he announced.   
Under the desk, Joan passed Sherlock the hedgehog drawing. Sherlock seemed utterly unfazed and continued scribbling in her notebook. After an hour of intensely willing the clock’s hands to move faster, detention was finally over, and Mr. Hudson shuffled out of the room sleepily. Sherlock clapped her hands together, jumped out of her chair, grabbing her things, and sped off down the hall. She was back before Joan had time to dejectedly collect her things.   
“You coming?” Sherlock inquired restlessly, and Joan ran after her down the hall to the chemistry lab.


End file.
